Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Phibbers, Empty

Odd, odd... I walked into the venue and there was a student from the University of the East who had insulted me last term and whom I'd reported for his attempts to bully. But the gig was upstairs in this cavernous venue, obviously home to throngs of Arsenal fans at weekends.
I sat and chatted to David Dirickx, another last-minute booking, while the other songwriter, Tom, sat at a table with his girlfriend.
There was no audience at all!
Me and David chatted about fingernails. the Carter scratch, the fact that his girlfriend in Inverness, and eventually the promoter asked him if he'd go on early.
He is inspired by Woody Guthrie and Bob Dylan, but actually has one of those big bold voices like Johnny Cash. He plays fluidly, all over the neck of the guitar, and plays harmonica too.
The song Matilda reminded me of a country version of Peter Sarstedt's Where Do You Go To My Lovely, and his other songs displayed a penchant for tense, driving folk. His powerful vocal style came to the fore in Blue Eyed Son, where he accompanied himself with his foot in a flip-flop attached to a half-tambourine.
One to watch, because he has one of those long-lasting voices and a definite style of his own!

His audience member came in halfway through; mine managed to turn up in time for my set (hi Dave!)
Meanwhile, Tom was performing his catchy songs on a very beaten-up graffiti'd guitar with a plastic rope strap; I have his CD to listen to.
Singing to six people is just as important as singing to sixty, six hundred or six thousand; the PA system was good and next week I'll be attempting to sing and play a totally acoustic set in the studio in four hours to release as my next album so I need all the practice I can get.
And, I have to say, I enjoyed it.
It was better than sitting in the house watching the telly: doing these things makes me feel alive and excited, and always will.

1 comment:

Phil said...

I expect every musician might have this kind of story: we once drove from Brighton to Dartmoor to play at a hotel. Unfortunately it had gone out of business without telling us. However there were a couple of ex-staff there shutting it down, so we decided to set up and play anyway. The audience was four people, in a big old dance-hall. I said to the others in the band "Come on, maybe one person will like us and tell their friends." We had a great time, played better than usual and had a lot of fun! Two years later we played a packed place in London and a guy came up with a bunch of his friends and said to me "remember when you played in Dartmoor to four people..."